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Torn: Manifestation
“Treacherous bitch!” the voice came as if from behind Sy's shoulder making her gasp and turn. She saw nothing, but it seemed Logos was able to project himself into anything in the grid… It didn't take her long to deduce what was happening. "You fuckin' wanker, get the fuck outta my baby! Ya kill thousands o'fuckin' people an' you got the fuckin' gall to think I'd fuckin' join you?!" Sy felt her anger surging through her, her vision was shaking with utter rage. "I been pushed 'round all my fuckin' life, you cuntfuck, I ne'er been able to trust a single fuckin' person, but I always been true to my dad, true to bein' a good person like he'd want me to be. So you think that I’m bein’ treacherous by sellin’ out yo’ murderous fuckin’ goons, then ya can have all the fuckin’ data on Mars but yo’ cunt ass don’ know how to read SHIT!” He laughed, “I never asked you to join me girl and if you think that OSEC are the ‘good guys’ you are unbelievably naive. Good is for fairy tales and tabloid journalists. The machine is beyond petty morality, we do what must be done. It is a clever toy you have there but you are no Neophyte, it lacks the power and you lack the training and it would appear that you have chosen your side. They will strip it from your flesh and if you survive the process you will live out your days in a dark cell... Like father, like daughter. Such a pity Sara, such a pity.” “The fuck you know ‘bout my dad?!” Sy was screaming now. “I swear to fuck, you ugly-ass mothafucka, I will march right out to whatever fuckin’ hole you hidin’ an’ rip yo’ wrinkly fuckin’ dick in two, TELL ME WHERE MY FUCKIN’ DAD IS!” “Enough!” Now it was Logos who began to grow angry and as his voice rose in volume and intensity the lights began to flicker and burn out in the apartment, the TV screen hissed and suddenly bust outwards and Sy felt a tingling sensation bordering on the painful where Heimdall was jacked in to her system, “You draw out my Chosen brother to his death and still I saw value in saving you from your doom, I warn you, I try to help you and all I get in return is betrayal and childish tantrums. You demand from me! You threaten me! You… have… no... fucking idea who you are dealing with. Here is a taste…” Logos withdrew and in his place, something else moved in, she could sense the vast energy, the sheer awesome presence of it. Every circuit, every particle of tech within range danced into vibrant life and amidst it all, beyond the mind-bending brilliance of it all something...someone watched her. Heimdall buzzed with the immense volume of data and her vision blurred as the world was overlaid with a psychedelic virtual overlay. A figure began to take shape before her, a blinding light at first, coalescing into a body, still too bright to distinguish any features. An arm reached out towards her, nearly close enough to touch. Sy could not move, could not speak. She was frozen to the spot, her vision engulfed by the golden being, crackling with power. Her hair seemed to float with static energy, a component woven through buzzed against her scalp. A small dark spot appeared at the crotch of her pants. The wires and components of Heimdall seemed to glow inside her palm, feeling warm, even hot. Her eyes burned, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. Blood dripped from her nose, she could taste it in her mouth too. She wondered vaguely if she should touch it. She wondered whether that would kill her. She wondered whether it mattered. Data swam through her vision, a mad vortex of images, video, billions upon billions of lines of code, centered around the glowing figure, its reaching arm now inches from her shoulder. The connection entering her scalp from Heimdall felt like a blowtorch, yet the intense pain seemed distant and unimportant. But in the flurry around her, she caught sight of one picture. The photo of her dad, visible for only a flash. It was enough to break the trance, and the religious wonder. “You may be a god,” she said quietly, and the reaching arm halted, close enough for the hair on her neck to be drawn towards its hand. “But you’re cold inside. You’re empty.” And with an almighty lurch, she pulled away, wrestling control of Heimdall from the being’s grasp and switching it off, terminating the connection to the grid. The being disappeared from view, dissolving into darkness. She fell to the floor, shaking all over, and vomited up what little she had eaten that day.